Yew - the tree of Death

A little while ago I was walking up on top of West Wycombe Hill - where the church of St Lawrence stands with its unique golden ball (see here) - and noted that there are a lot of yew trees around the graveyard and the nearby Dashwood family mausoleum. 

Yews are fascinating for a number of reasons. Firstly, they are extraordinarily long-lived, often surpassing 1000 years old, and there are at least 500 churchyards in England which contain yew trees older than the buildings themselves. The official oldest yew in the UK, the Fortingall yew in Perthshire, is possibly 3000 years old or older. However, there is a rival claim made for the 60-foot-wide yew in the grounds of St Cynog's churchyard near Swansea which, according to some experts, may be more than 5000 years old - making it older than the Great Pyramid of Giza. 

The yew symbolised death and resurrection in Celtic culture. The ancients believed the tree to be immortal and indestructible, a belief that was bolstered by its evergreen foliage and its extraordinary ability to regrow despite any damage it suffered. Drooping branches of old yew trees can also root and form new trunks where they touch the ground. The Romans believed its roots went down to Hell. Yew trees are commonly found in graveyards and around churches although, because many churches were built on sites that were significant to older pagan religions, the yews may have been planted before the churches were built. They were planted supposedly to 'purify the earth', but it's more likely they were planted to stop commoners from grazing their cattle and pigs on holy ground. That's because the yew tree is extremely poisonous.   

The leaves and seeds of the yew tree are deadly. Unlike most evergreens that produce cones with seeds inside, the yew puts out unique fleshy red cup-shaped fruits called arils that enclose each seed. The red aril flesh isn't toxic and the seed has a thick skin to prevent the poisons being released, allowing distribution by birds without them being poisoned. However, once that skin is broken, they become deadly. I know very experienced foragers who have eaten the red aril flesh and they described the flavour as thin and watery. So frankly, they're not worth the risk, especially as the seed, if cracked, may have leached toxins onto the fruit. The inviting green needles are equally dangerous as they, like the seeds, contain concentrations of an alkaloid called taxine. Eating just a few needles or a single seed will make you severely ill and could kill you. Symptoms of taxine poisoning include irregular heartbeat, dizziness, headache, and shortness of breath. After ingestion of a lethal dose, death occurs from cardiac failure or respiratory failure. There is no antidote. 

The yew has left its mark on history and popular culture. Agatha Christie used yew berries as murder weapons in A Pocket Full Of Rye and Shakespeare had Macbeth concoct a poisonous brew that included 'slips of yew, silvered in the moon’s eclipse'. Julius Caesar referenced a Celtic leader named Eburones who poisoned himself with yew rather than submit to Rome, and the historian Florus wrote that, in 22BCE, the Cantabrians on the coast of northern Spain killed themselves 'by sword, fire or yew rather than surrender to the legate Gaius Furnius'. 

Taxine is also present in the bark and the wood but in much lower densities than in the leaves and seeds. Which is a good thing as the timber we get from this tree is incredibly strong and durable. Traditionally, it was used to make English long bows and one of the World's oldest surviving wooden artefacts is a yew spear head estimated to be around 450,000 years old. 

So, is handling yew wood dangerous? Not really, although some people do get an allergic reaction to contact with living wood. There are reports of some wood workers being poisoned but these instances are very rare and are caused by constant daily exposure. For most of us, it's not an issue. That said, the advice of scientists at Kew Gardens is this: 'As we have detected taxine contamination in wine into which yew wood had been placed, it would seem sensible to caution against drinking or eating using yew wood utensils.' So, archery may be okay but don't store your wine in yew wood casks.

On a more positive note, taxine works by disrupting microtubular function and inhibiting cell division. It is therefore used in drugs to tackle cancers.

I said in an earlier blogpost (here) that I would only post information about wild foods and foraging if there is no chance of misidentification.  Therefore I've written this post as a warning - the arils are very distinctive and don't look like any other berry so there should be no reason to mistake them for anything else. However, they can look inviting to children (and dogs) so keep your eyes on little fingers (and paws) when you're near yew trees.

The takeaway from this blogpost is ... enjoy walking around the churchyards but be wary of the ancient yew. And certainly don't be tempted to try one of its dangerous fruits.

I'll leave you with this - Sonnet XII by Timothy Salter.

There is a Meetinghouse across the wold 

Near shaded churchyard where pine breezes sigh; 

Such sacred mem'ries gently here unfold 

Of rustic folk whom 'neath the yew trees lie. 

Engraved on stones now crum'ling in the earth, 

Of souls asleep for o'er a hundred years, 

Foretell unceasing cycles - Death and Birth 

That yew tree nods and weeps her unseen tears. 

But God shall guide us through the gloom of night 

Victorious over grim reaper's blade, 

As yet we grasp to see eternal light 

Amidst life's fickle joys which here do fade. 

Victims of Death by lusty scythe bannish'd 

Triumphant wake to find nightmares vanish'd!